


Fear of Falling

by ninjamonkey73



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 07:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22352377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjamonkey73/pseuds/ninjamonkey73
Summary: Her actions thus far had made it patently clear that yes, the dress was for him.
Relationships: Gaius Baltar/Kara "Starbuck" Thrace, Lee "Apollo" Adama/Kara "Starbuck" Thrace
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	Fear of Falling

**Author's Note:**

> After watching Colonial Day and Kobol's Last Gleaming Part I, a couple versions of this story have nagged at me, asking to be written to try to make sense of how things got from point A in Colonial Day to point B in KLG I (spoilers omitted). This is the one that got written.

The music segued into a slower song, and without words, the space between them closed. Kara settled into Lee's arms, sliding her hands up his back to rest on his shoulders. She sighed contentedly, noticing the dull ache in her bum knee fading now that she shifted some of her weight off of it. Her mind stopped racing, thoughts of combat runs and endless CAPs giving way to relaxing into the moment, in his arms, swaying slowly to the music. Gods, it felt good. It felt right.

That thought caught her off guard, and she stiffened slightly in alarm, involuntarily. Lee slid a hand tentatively over her bare shoulder blades. His hand on her skin brought her back to the present, her stomach doing flips of anticipation. The room spun suddenly and she realized she had lost count of the shots of ambrosia she had drunk. Kara clutched at Lee's back, trying to shut out the room, the crowd of Colonial Day celebrants, the small, insecure voice in her head insisting that she break away and run to save him from herself.

There was almost desperation to the way she now clung to him, yet for the life of her, she couldn't regain control of herself. She thought she didn't need anyone or anything, and yet the need that hung between them was nearly palpable. She was sure he could feel it. She held him so tightly, Kara felt his heartbeat quicken as he tightened his own embrace in return. The thin material slid easily beneath his hands as he pulled her closer, the warmth of his hands almost burning through the uncharacteristically feminine dress she wore.

Kara realized she was breathing too quickly, the tight embrace they shared too much of a turn-on to bear much longer without... some sort of release. Gods, she was drunk! Her head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton, warring thoughts fighting to rise above the alcohol-induced fuzz. _Kiss me!_ then, _Get out of here before we do something we can't undo!_

But she'd already done that, hadn't she? Her actions thus far had made it patently clear that yes, the dress was for him. Since he'd first arrived at the Colonial Day festivities, they had danced, drunk, and mingled together like it was some kind of unspoken date. And now, she clung to him helplessly, like a life raft in a sea of confusion. _Gods, this is Lee. Lee. What the frak am I doing?_

She couldn't deny the attraction, not after how things went down the very first day she met him. His brother Zak, her then-boyfriend and why Lee was even at her apartment to begin with, was passed out drunk on the couch mere feet away while they continued to drink and talk, until they'd forgotten Zak was even there. If she hadn't knocked the wine glass off the table and woken Zak, would she have actually frakked her boyfriend's brother right behind the couch he slept on? On the table where she and Zak shared their meals? Absolutely. And that thought alone scared the hell out of her.

Lee took a slow, deep breath, seeming to savor their tight embrace. Kara hated feeling vulnerable. She held him fiercely and yet was coiled to break away at the same time. She could tell where this was headed, and it was nowhere good. Lee had always been off-limits and needed to remain off-limits if she was to maintain any level of sanity. Something about Lee made her feel foolish and weak, and she hated feeling out of control.

The silence between them drifted on as they continued to sway slowly to the music. A part of Kara wished he would say something, anything, to break the tension of the moment. Something she could twist into an escape. The longer she held him there on the dance floor, the more she wanted-- no _needed_ \-- him. And Kara Thrace took what she wanted, didn't she? Why the slow burn of panic rising in her chest? She'd frakked plenty of guys she worked with over the years. Why should Lee be any different?

That was just it, though. It was Lee. Lee Adama, CAG of Galactica, her superior officer. Lee Adama, brother of her dead fiancé, Zak. Lee Adama, her friend. She found herself wanting to breathe his name, to break the silence herself, to ask him to take her anywhere else so she could have him and be done with the needing, but deep down Kara suspected a quick frak would only make things worse. On the day she met him, a part of her had clicked on, a part that wanted and needed to have Lee Adama, a part she suspected could not be switched back off. She refused to believe in anything more than lust at first sight, but whatever it was between them, Galactica and the end of the worlds seemed like a dangerous place for it. Why'd she have to drink so much? If she were sober, she wouldn't still be clutching him like a desperate schoolgirl.

As her grip on him loosened and she tried to calm the panic she still couldn't quite push down, Lee inhaled deeply again. His nose brushed her neck, and the warmth of his exhaling breath stoked the fire in her belly. Without her consent, her hands started to wander in an effort to map the shape of him. His breath caught and she dragged herself back in slow motion, to look at him, needing to prove to herself that it was real and not a drunken hallucination.

And suddenly, there were those eyes. Blue and deep and smiling at her and she was falling. The butterflies overtook her stomach and she was lost in those eyes of his. And all the need and desire she felt was there, mirrored in his eyes, and the pure white fear hit her so suddenly, she nearly gasped. _Oh, Gods! I have to.…_ She caught sight of Vice President Baltar passing nearby and turned, pushing Lee away gently.

"Mr. Vice President! May I have this dance?"

It was done. She had saved them, hadn't she? From what exactly, she wasn't sure. All she knew when she forced herself away into the waiting arms of that awful Gaius Baltar was that she had saved them both from... something. She immediately regretted looking back. The betrayal written on Lee's face was unbearable. She threw herself into flirting with Gaius to try to focus on anything but Lee.

In her peripheral vision, she watched Lee stand there for a moment in the middle of the dance floor, looking at his shoes. One minute, they were having a great time, laughing and dancing, and the next, she was an emotional basketcase. Thank the Gods she'd managed to extract herself without making a scene. As Kara and Gaius started to dance and flirt with each other, she glanced around to see if anyone had seen her push Lee away. She watched him awkwardly finger the medals on his dress uniform to look busy, shuffle his feet, and head for the bar. At least that was over with.

The tone between them had certainly changed at some point during the course of the evening. It was all her fault, if she was to lay blame. She had put this stupid dress on for him. And she definitely encouraged him to ask her to dance. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd gotten laid. _Brilliant idea, Kara. Get Lee to put his hands on you and hold you close. That's not the least bit dangerous. And the dress isn't mixed signals or anything._ Right when she thought she might actually kiss him and ignore the voice of doom in her head, the panic fully overtook her and she ran away. Into the arms of... Gaius Baltar? Gaius Baltar who talked to bulkheads and frakked anything that moved?

And she was still so very drunk. And horny. And Baltar was eating up her attention like he always knew she'd come around. Gaius was there and she needed to get off and get back to her life as Top Gun to Lee's CAG. So why not Baltar? Based on the number of conquests she'd seen him with in his time on Galactica, tonight was all he was after anyway. No harm, no foul, and Lee was saved from the inevitable train wreck that was Kara Thrace.

~~~~

Later, in bed with him, eyes closed, he ceased being Gaius. Kara wasn't conscious of the exact moment Baltar became a physical placeholder for a fantasy Lee, but she got so swept up in the fantasy that she lost track of where she _really_ was: in bed with the newly elected Vice President of the Twelve Colonies, Gaius Baltar.

"Oh, Lee.… Oh, Lee.…"

He froze immediately and Kara realized she had said it out loud. Wisely, she said nothing else. There was no taking back saying another man's name in bed. What surprised her, though, was how Gaius looked. Certainly, being called someone else-- in bed-- was a shot to his pride, but he looked devastated, implying she might not have been any old notch in the ol' bedpost. Kara practically crawled from the room, silence following her down the nearly deserted corridors on her walk of shame in a disheveled party dress and heels. Frak.

~~~~

The next morning in the hangar, the confrontation with Lee hammered home that perhaps throwing herself into the arms of another man _in front of Lee_ was not the cleanest escape ever devised. His hurt had progressed to full-blown anger, and that in turn made _her_ angry.

"You want something from me?"

"Not a thing," he forced out through clenched teeth.

"’Cause I don't owe you anything," Kara stated matter-of-factly, not daring to look at him. Gods, she wasn't his, never had been, regardless of last night's clutch-fest on the dance floor. But she'd even frakked up saving him, which further proved the logic behind trying. Kara Thrace was a self-destructive screw-up that hurt-- or killed-- the men that were unfortunate enough to fall for her.

"No, you don't owe me anything," Lee spat, the anger in his voice rising. "’Cause I'm just a CAG and you're just a pilot."

Kara stiffened and grated out, "Right."

"A pilot who can't keep her pants on."

"Right," she said, continuing to work on the Raider to avoid facing him. Eventually, he would have his fill of lecturing, or scolding, or whatever it was he thought he had come here for.

"Oh, it's just like old times, Kara. Like when you got drunk and couldn't keep your hands off the Major from-"

Before he could finish, Kara uncoiled and spun on him, swinging a fist towards his face. His return punch came immediately, catching her square in the mouth. The pain clarified things for her, clearing her head enough for her to walk away and end the non-argument. _He hit me. Like that bastard's never had too much to drink and made a bad call._ She gathered herself and started to walk away from him, the argument clearly at its apex.

"Why'd you do it, Kara? Just tell me why." Lee's voice was almost pleading now and it hurt to hear.

She continued around the front of the Raider, "’Cause I'm a screw-up, Lee. Try to remember that."

Kara escaped. Again. At least she wouldn't have to worry about falling into Lee's eyes anytime soon. She wasn't even sure they were still speaking. As much as it hurt, at least he was safe from whatever danger she held for the Adama men. Or so she told herself.


End file.
